


Journey with the Fear

by scenarios



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Gen, IMO, inspired by their favorite boys mv, it's been too long idk how to tag anymore, it's not explicitly horror, it's not horror, some kind of au that isn't canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scenarios/pseuds/scenarios
Summary: Junhee wakes up once, and he isn't in the place where he knows he fell asleep in. In fact, he doesn't recognize anything around him. All he knows now is an ache within him that longs for something, and that there's a figure that constantly shows up trying to convince him to call its name.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Journey with the Fear

The first thing Junhee remembers when he first awakes is the taste of salt and copper. And when he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the sky. The sad, dreary, ashen sky that has snow slowly dropping from the sky—and somehow, it’s dirty. He is alone, half buried underneath the snowfall but not cold at all. Junhee drags himself from out underneath the snow with much more effort than thought needed. It’s surprising, because there is not ache in his limbs. No visible injuries, no blood on his body, his clothes, his face, or head. There is just a weariness Junhee feels deep in his soul and he doesn’t know where he should start searching first. 

A funny feeling wells up inside Junhee as he walks around this cold, barren place he’s found himself in. There’s no way to identify it. All Junhee can do is slug his way through the icy cold and attempt to find a breath of life _anywhere_. 

But his will slowly crumbles as he spots desperate embers burning in the distance, desperately licking at the heavens in a plea for help. Junhee follows the barren trail, and it leads him to a clearing devoid of life. The ground around frozen solid, the trees with their naked spindly branches sticking outwards, and a clear creek that hasn’t yet frozen solid. 

Snow begins to fall in a flurry around him, encasing him like a lost lover’s embrace as it begins to delicately stick on Junhee’s eyelashes. He stares down at his reflection, the snow sticking to his lashes hinder his vision and feels like hands trying to prevent him from seeing the horrors of the world. The thought goes just as abrupt as it comes and it shakes him out of his reverie. Wiping his eyes free of the snow, there’s a sudden stillness in the air. Where before he could hear the crackling of the flames devouring wood and the howl of the wind, there is nothing. Nothing but Junhee’s own breaths. Is he even breathing? 

Staring down at his reflection, Junhee is speechless. His once black hair has now turned silver and his once dark eyes have become as unsettling vermilion color, and Junhee is horrified. This isn’t him. This _thing_ doesn’t resemble the him he remembers—even if there is little he remembers. But there are flashes of something in the corner of his eye. He attempts to turn his head to look but can’t because something feeling like hands locked around his neck, caressing his jaw, fingers running through his hair, has his head firmly in place. 

“My sweet, sweet Junhee,” a hauntingly familiar voice croons next to his ear, breath tickling against the shell of his ear, chilling his flesh as he tries to match the voice to a face. “There is only so much I can do for you in this pitiful state you’ve become.” The voice imitates sadness well as the change has every nerve in his body on full alert. 

Draping itself over Junhee, he feels it embrace him around the waist as it presses a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“You know, I can’t control you, for you were never mine to control. I can only control how much I love you—and I adore you quite a lot.” It continues. “It saddens me to see where you are now; lost and unaware.” 

His vision tunnels, and it moves until it places its head next to his. Junhee doesn’t have to turn his head to see—in the reflection that’s eerily clear, it stares him in the eyes. Assuming the form of almost-human, Junhee would have thought about its beauty, if not for the deathly pallor of its skin and stark white of its hair and thick, red band around its eyes, but Junhee knows, he’s being watched despite it all.

A hand, its hand, cradles his head lovingly as it maintains eye contact with Junhee. “Remember, I am the only one you can trust. Trust no other being than me because I am the only one that will guide you home, my sweet Junhee.” The poison drips through his ears, making way to his brain, muddling his better judgment. Junhee knows, because the whispers ringing inside of him are telling him to “run, rabbit, run as fast and far away as your tired legs can.” Even if it is futile and it can find always find him, Junhee won’t stop trying. 

Is that how he got here in the first place? Cold and alone and lacking everything but this husk of a body.

Makes him wonder if this body is even his. The hair is too short, and the eyes—the eyes aren’t half as wise as he expects, and Junhee is struck with the sudden thought that this body doesn’t feel right. Like it isn’t weathered enough. 

Like he’s missing _weight_.

“My sweet Junhee,” it continues crooning so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. “I won’t be far behind whenever you call my name.” 

His throat locks in protest because no, Junhee doesn’t know, but he does; its name curls itself upon his trembling lips. Despite the heavy cloth that is bound across its eyes, Junhee knows it is delighted. It tastes something like stale almonds and blueberries. 

Junhee dares not blink. Gathering up all the will he has left in him, he stares at it where Junhee knows its eyes hides. It smirks at him, mouth widening, stretching at the corners, even more delighted at his little display of courage. With a last tug at Junhee, it disappears. He crawls his way to a tree with the bit of energy Junhee has left, and despite being alone, there’s a suffocating silence that follows him. 

The presence never quite fades either. No matter how much distance Junhee puts between him and that fateful place, its grip tugs his hair. The touch is feather light—haunting, as it never fails to remind Junhee that something is amiss. 

He traverses fields of rotten flowers freshly wilted from his presence, and passes through open meadows and Junhee doesn’t know what he’s searching for. It feels like it’s been a millennium since that night he met It, but he knows it has only been a couple moons. Maybe; time travels differently here with nights dragging a touch too long and the sun never quite as bright as Junhee recalls. 

“I don’t know your name.” He shouts into the night, his voice loud and clear and echoing between spaces between the trees and vegetation. Junhee turns his head quickly from side to side, ears prickling in nerves as he catches soft whispers of laughter that taunt him. He breaks into a run, chasing after voices that tease him with words of false reassurance. They sound like many layered on top of each other, but there is only one that stands out. 

Stopping at a cliff’s edge, the voices finally clear themselves out from his ears. Instead, the night is eerily quiet—hardly a rustle in the wind nor any kind of movement that is typical from wildlife whom lurk in the night. Not even the rush of water that lays below Junhee makes a sound. 

“You know my name,” Junhee hears before a hand pushes him forwards and down he plummets. As he falls, the vacuum of silence is broken by the raging water below that rushes towards him. The wind howls tonight and the animals skitter back to their abodes. Suddenly, life has a purpose again, and Junhee thinks how fitting it is that he is dropped into the gorge—its maws of jagged edges and sharp rocks loom over him and he continues to fall deeper until he’s surrounded by the bone-chilling embrace of the river.

He recognizes this sensation of drowning.

“..ay?”

Jerking his head to the source of the voice, Junhee stares at the figure with wide eyes. Water spills out from his lips as he coughs and his desperate need for air has him heaving to the side, spluttering until there’s nothing left but a burning in his lungs and tears in his eyes. His mouth stretches into a thin line afterwards and is hesitant to speak, caution ringing through his head about figures that stand before him.

The figure cocks its head to the side, eyes roaming up and over Junhee, appraising his worth—as if there’s anything he has that can be considered valuable with his pathetic, water-soaked form. 

They approach him, the bright moonlight dragging their shadow, creating something larger than they physically are—and their strides are wide and purposeful like it’s Seen the results of this schmuck of a confrontation. 

Stopping in front of him, Junhee can’t help but cower because its presence, entirely different from the other one, is all an encompassing warmth that is a burning fire with inexhaustible kindle. One that can burn if held close, but Junhee thinks it will be a searing kind of pain that reignites the determination that’s been long forgotten in the blood of your veins. 

“What’s a little lost fawn like you doing something in here?” He asks. No answer will be supplied, and he expects that. The glint in his eyes, the cocky jut of his lips has him look like he’s ready to devour Junhee. He smiles a different smile from the other, a peek of the gleaming whites of its teeth has him holding his breath.

Shuddering, whether from fear or from the bone penetrating cold Junhee doesn’t know, he reminds himself to breathe. “I’m not abandoned!” He protests, and it raises a brow in response like he’s been caught in a lie. Then a reluctant “I’m… just lost,” and it feels almost like the manacles that shackle his limbs down have lessen. Junhee has more room to _breathe_. The free admission he’s made to this… figure… doesn’t make him feel any less than he already is. 

His grin widens, mischief coloring his person at his admission. “I can help,” he leans in close enough for Junhee to feel the kind of vibrant zing that lies under his skin and festers within the meat and blood of his kind. 

_Demon hunters_ whispers itself in Junhee’s ears and in a moment of weakness (the kind of frail, false bravado that hasn’t held up in the all-seeing, wretches gazes of otherworldling beings)—Junhee fears for a moment that he will disappear. 

The demon hunter offers his hand out to Junhee. He stares at it for a short moment, distrust shown plainly on his face. That has the hunter huffing in amusement as he patiently waits for Junhee to take his hand.

“We won’t hurt you,” the hunter says, and the other one nods in agreement but his face is no less unfriendly. “I’m Byeongkwan, and this is my companion, Sehyoon. What’s your name, little fawn?” 

Shivering from a passing gust of wind, Junhee takes Byeonkwan’s hand consequences be damned. It isn’t like he’ll be slain by his hands anyways. 

“Junhee,” he says as Byeongkwan pulls him to his feet, legs shaking from the intense shivers that suddenly overcome him. 

“Junhee,” Byeongkwan repeats, rolling his name between his lips, testing it out. “Tastes like a decent name. Follow us—or don’t, but you’ll probably freeze.” He cocks his head to the side, and Sehyoon moves, his steps silent as he wraps a cloak over Junhee’s damp shoulders. They step away from him, not looking back to see if he follows. It matters not to them if they gain another companion or not. 

Hesitating, touches linger around him, touching his elbow as if beckoning him back to the water where they can sequester him away to some place even more secretive than the calm river. Junhee shakes off the feelings as he hurries after the pair. He swears not to turn back, but there’s a part of him that swallows the tempting fruit of curiosity, Junhee turns to where only the edges of the river just been seen at the edges of his vision. 

It is there. The figure in red that smiles that wide smile and waves at him as he leaves. Junhee abruptly turns his head back forwards and almost bumps into the back of Sehyoon who stares at him.

No, not at him, but past him. Junhee slowly follows his line of sight back to where the figure once stood, Now, there is nothing there. He looks back at Sehyoon and the man continues to stare at the spot, eyes fixated onto that spot before he gives his attention to Junhee. He nods at him before turning back on his heels, rejoining Byeongkwan who is already a good distance ahead of them.

“I will always be with you,” is what the figured mouthed to Junhee earlier. The sharp shade of red that’s entirely all too reminiscent of freshly drawn blood won’t disappear from Junhee’s mind no matter how hard he tries to scrub the image out. He isn’t sure of anything; of who he is or what he’s looking for, but he knows one thing: this thing won’t leave him until its gotten what it wants. 

A sinking feeling in his gut tells Junhee that what it wants in its clutches is him. Its presence haunts his steps even as he moves further away from the river. The sick amusement that rolls off it hangs around Junhee like a heavy cloud, unwilling to dissipate until he learns how to expel it away from him. 

Until then, the sticky tar of its presence hang heavy on his limbs.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh oh, I wanted to write more but ultimately, here we are. Perhaps I'll make this into a series? I had many thoughts but alas, they were all thoughts that sputtered up and went nowhere. I've got vague ideas of -waves hands- something. Don't you just love it when haha, your brain goes brrrr except there is no brain bc it's been on vacation since like, 5 years ago. That's how I'm feeling rn.
> 
> I think we all know who Donghun is hahaha whoops.


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